


Love, Hermione

by BlushingCrimson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Love Rosie (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, Friendship/Love, Growing Up Together, Letters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushingCrimson/pseuds/BlushingCrimson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I stood up, awkwardly clearing my dry throat and self consciously rubbed the back of my neck. I caught his eyes with mine again, he gave me a gentle smile of encouragement and that was enough for me.</p>
<p>“Um, Hello” I started. “For those of you I haven’t properly spoken to this afternoon, I’m Hermione Granger.” I paused licking my drying bottom lip. “And well, what can I say? I mean where can one possibly start?”</p>
<p>Well the beginning could be good, I suppose.<br/>__</p>
<p>Harry and Hermione have been best friends since childhood. This is their story about friendships, mistakes, heart breaks and learning that sometimes life just gets in the way. </p>
<p>(Love, Rosie AU) (Harry Potter AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. This is my new story inspired by Love, Rosie. I watched it last year and fell in love with the story so much that I went out and bought the book the next day. It inspired me to write a story of a similar nature but only in the Harry Potter world. I've only wrote a couple of chapters so regarding characters and ships i'm not 100% certain on so the tags may change as the story continues. I'm up for any suggestions if any of you have some! So yeah, regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Love, Hermione

Hermione’s P.O.V

I sat quietly at the round, lace covered table. The candle in the centre fighting the wind with such force, blowing madly with inner strength. Strength with which I did not have. No, indeed I wasn’t a strong burning flame but barely a burning cinder in the corner of the fireplace, slowly dying. Or at least that’s what it felt like. 

“Hermione?” Luna elbowed me. Hard, I might add. For one so small and delicate she’s extremely strong. I gazed up at her, finally out of my trance. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun with a green bow, curls at either side framing her face. Homemade daisy earrings hung from her ears and shook slightly in the afternoon air. “Hermione, your speech!” She whispered. Oh right, my speech. I finally looked away from Luna to find all eyes in the room were on me. Including his. 

I stood up, awkwardly clearing my dry throat and self consciously rubbed the back of my neck. I caught his eyes with mine again, he gave me a gentle smile of encouragement and that was enough for me.

“Um, Hello” I started. “For those of you I haven’t properly spoken to this afternoon, I’m Hermione Granger.” I paused licking my drying bottom lip. “And well, what can I say? I mean where can one possibly start?”

Well the beginning could be good, I suppose. 

15 years earlier

I met Harry when he was 7 years old. A small, scrawny kid with dark, messy hair and possibly the greenest eyes I had ever seen. He wore rounded glasses and a baggy jumper that made him look even smaller, if that were possible. He sat at the back of the classroom by himself and little 7 year old me took pity on him. I slowly walked towards him with equally messy hair. (My Mum tried to hide the fact that I was a walking,talking human bush by putting a red hairband on me whilst I walked out the door. I think it’s safe to say that didn’t work) 

“Hello” I softly spoke. He quickly glanced in my direction, a look of puzzlement on his features. I tried again, this time with a firm voice and all the confidence I could muster. “Hello, I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” His eyes caught mine, a faint pink tinted his cheeks. “Oh i’m sorry” He started “I didn’t realise you were actually talking to me.” It was my turn then to be puzzled “And why would I not?” I asked, tilting my head. My frizzy, brown curls leaning to one side. “I don’t know.” he shrugged. “I guess i’m quite good at being ignored.” he smiled a sad sort of smile.

I had never seen this sort of thing before. I, as an only child was most definitely not ignored. Yes, both my parents worked extremely hard but that didn’t mean I was ignored or on my own. Whilst they were at work I stayed with my grandparents. They have a room filled with books of all different colours and sizes, it looks like a miniature library. I would spend hours in there looking at them all, picking out big words I didn’t understand yet and asking Grandad to tell me the meaning of them. We would curl up in his old antique arm chair - I on his lap - and he would read the most fascinating stories to me. My Grandmother would come in with steaming hot cups of cocoa (sugar free of course - my parents are dentists and would never allow anything less) and her fat black cat with pretty white paws would follow behind her. I loved that cat. Her name was Juliette, she was fiercely loyal and extremely intelligent. I think she was the reason I fell in love with animals and cats in particular. 

“Oh.” I answered, not knowing what else to say. His cheeks went an even deeper shade of pink. To save him from more embarrassment I quickly moved on. “You never answered my question” I reminded him. He raised his dark eyebrow. “Question?” I smiled at him, shaking my head. “Yes, I asked you what your name was!” He grinned back at me. “Harry. My name’s Harry.” I nodded, he looked like a Harry. “Well Harry, may I sit?” I asked him, gesturing to the chair beside him. He nodded, beaming up at me. I sat down, placing my new blue school bag beside my chair. 

—

“You know, you seem very smart for your age.” Harry commented that week at lunch. I was in the middle of biting my apple at the time, the red skin getting caught in my big front teeth. “Well thank you. I think it’s because I like to read.” I smiled a bright toothy grin. Harry laughed at me, his green eyes shining. “What? Don’t you read?!” I exclaimed, completely oblivious. “No, I don’t but that’s not why i’m laughing. You have apple in your teeth.” My hand went to my mouth, a blush creeping up my neck. “Oh no! Why does that always happen?” Harry let out another laugh. “It happens a lot?” He asked, his laugh dying down. “Yeah.” I whined. “I want to get braces but my parents think i’m too young. They’re dentists, you see.” I sighed. Trying to get the topic off of my hideous teeth I asked him what his parents did. 

His face changed. Gone was the bright green sparkle of laughter and in it’s place was a dull, frosted frown. “I wouldn’t know, my parents are dead.” he muttered. I didn’t know what to say, as intelligent as I was nothing could have prepared me for that. All I done was place my small hand over his. “I live with my uncle and aunt” He gave me a sad smile. “Is that not a good thing?” I asked, wondering why he looked even more unhappy. “No, not really. They don’t talk to me, unless it’s to give out or tell me to clean.” I raised my eyebrows past my brown, bushy hair. “They what? That’s horrible!” He sighed “Yeah tell me about it. But there’s nothing I can do.” I thought for a while, I as a 7 year old couldn’t do much but maybe my parents could. “Would you like to come to my house for tea later? My parents won’t mind.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes “Sure, they won’t miss me.” 

After school Harry and I strolled over to my Mothers car. She was waiting outside it, a perfectly white smile plastered across her face. “Mum, could my new friend Harry please come for tea?” My Mother glanced sweetly between him and I before replying “Of course he can. Hi Harry, I’m Monica” Harry let out the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. “Hello.” he grinned. We hopped into the back seat of my car and played ‘iSpy with my little eye’ all the way home. Harry spying things like trees and street lamps, I spying the pin in my Mothers hair and the little robin in old Mrs Butlers shop window. “Well I can’t see that far, my eye sight is bad!” he complained, folding his arms. 

We pulled up outside my house, Harry’s eyes widened. “You live here?” he asked. I focussed my eyes on my house and then back at him “Yes?” I answered, unsure of where this was going. “I don’t live too far from here, just over the road really.” He smiled. “That’s great! We can visit each other all the time.” I replied, beaming at him. My Mother smiled at us and unlocked the front door, Harry and I followed closely behind her. “Why don’t you show Harry around while I make tea?” Mrs Granger suggested. “Yes, great idea!” I nodded, grabbing Harry’s arm and pulling him upstairs. “Lets start with my room, shall we?” I proposed, pointing down a long hallway towards a white door with a hanging sign that said ‘Hermione’s room.’ Harry shrugged his shoulders “Sure, why not?” he grinned at me.

My room wasn’t extremely big but I wouldn’t have called it small either. It had two bookshelves covered head to toe in books, a small single bed with white bedding and a light blue blanket. A large white window with a desk in front of it so I could make use of the natural lighting when I do my homework. But my most favourite thing of all was my arm chair - just like the one my Grandfather owns - I could spend all weekend sitting on that chair going over the books I bought with my pocket money. I loved the smell of new books, the feel of old books and the look of both together on my shelves. 

“Wow Hermione, your room is great!” Harry gasped, eyes wide in awe. I blushed “Thank you, Harry. I do quite like it.” I admitted. He scanned the room taking everything in, brushing his had across the trunk at the end of my bed. “I have something cool in that trunk, would you like to see?” I asked him, breaking him out of whatever world he was in. “Okay, sure” he nodded. I flashed him a smile and lifted the heavy lid of the trunk. Inside lay lots of colourful blankets, a few pillows, some fairy lights and a box of clothes pegs and rubber bands. “I glanced over at Harrys curious face and giggled. “They’re fort supplies” I explained proudly. “Dad and I build forts in here all the time when he’s not busy pulling people’s teeth out” I added, smirking at Harry’s horrified expression. “Would you like to build one?” I asked him already handing him a blanket and pillow. “I’ve never built a fort before. This is going to be so cool!” he smiled.

An hour later we had successfully built a blanket fort. We lay buried under a sea of sheets, both our heads resting on a fluffy periwinkle pillow. We were making shadow animals with our hands and a flashlight, my shadow cat perched on the back of Harry’s shadow dragon. “Hermione?” He whispered, turning his head to face mine. “I had a dream I was flying the other night.” He smiled sheepishly. I moved my head to the right, almost bumping my forehead with his. “That sounds magical.” I whispered, smiling gently at him. Harry beamed at me, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. “What are you smiling like that for?” I giggled. “You didn’t call me a silly boy.” He said shrugging as if that explained everything. 

I sat upright again, looking down at Harry. His hair was as messy as ever, his round glasses lopsided from laying down and his baggy jumper hid one of his hands completely. His features friendly, his eyes a deep emerald. “What?” he whispered as if speaking any louder would cave in our perfectly made palace. “Promise me we’ll always be friends, Harry.” I answered, surprising myself with how quiet my voice had become too. “Promise.” He grinned from ear to ear displaying teeth my parents would be proud of. 

And that was the start of our story. Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. But it’s never normally that simple, is it? Well when Harry Potter is concerned simple isn’t even in his vocabulary.


	2. The Weird Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter! Here's the second one, hope you all enjoy! As always all mistakes are my own, so if there are any errors I do apologise.

Chapter 2.

2 Years Later (Age 9)

Dear Harry,

As your older and therefore wiser best friend I wish to give you some advice. When one decides to have a birthday outing and invite all the boys in the class - including Dudley’s friends - it would be wise to invite me. Your BEST FRIEND. Why haven’t you answered my letters? Are you not talking to me?

From Hermione.

P.S Happy 9th Birthday.

—  
Dear Hermione,

I am sorry I didn’t write beck to you this week. My uncle and aunt would not aloud it. The party was not very fun and it was not my idea. It was Dudley’s party. I went along to help carrie all his presents. My uncle grounded me then. I kept dropping all of the gifts on the floor but I didn’t even mean to. Something weird happened also. I’ll tell you in school on Monday.

Form Harry.   
—  
Vernon Dursley’s pudgy fist banging against the door awoke Harry from his sleep. (He had been dreaming about unicorns, he couldn’t wait to tell Hermione.) He jumped as the banging continued, nearly banging his head on the low, unsteady shelf above him. “I’m awake” he shouted, rubbing his tired blurred eyes and slipping on his rounded glasses, the world slowly coming back into focus.

“Well hurry up! You need to make breakfast and Dudley is hungry!” Vernon bellowed. Harry sighed opening the door to his ‘room’ He made his way into the kitchen to get started on the bacon. He could hear Dudley’s obnoxious laugh from the sitting room and the familiar sound of Sunday morning cartoons that he most certainly would not be allowed to watch. “No, No you silly boy. Far too much to do” Aunt Petunia had tutted when Harry asked her last Spring.

The squeaking of the letterbox signalled Harry’s only escape from the world of the Dursleys: Hermione’s Letter. Harry raced from the kitchen, deserting the spitting bacon to sizzle on the hot frying pan. His goal in sight, Hermione’s neat hand writing almost within reach when he tripped over something and fell. Hard. Face first into the Dursley’s hallway floor.

Dudley’s taunting snigger filled his ears. “Oooh Harry’s got a letter! I wonder who it could be? Maybe your girlfriend?” he teased, waving the letter above Harry’s head. “Give it to me, it’s my letter!” Harry shouted stretching his arm up and snatching the letter from Dudley’s grasp.

The sound of the smoke alarm made both boys jump. Burnt bacon wafted through the air and Aunt Petunia’s high shriek came with it. “Where’s my Dinky Duddydums!? Are you safe?” She rushed into the hallway smothering Dudley with kisses. “Boy! What is the meaning of this?” Uncle Vernon roared, belly shaking and cheeks as red as cherries. “It was a letter from his girlfriend!” Dudley blurted out in between Petunia’s tight hold and continuing kisses. “That..that girl and her bloody letters!” Vernon spat, clear hatred present on his features. “You!” he said pointing his chubby finger at Harry. “I want you to clean up this mess and make Dudley a brand new breakfast” he paused looking proudly at his son. “And then, you will go back to your cupboard and don’t come out!” he finished, shooting daggers in Harrys direction.

Once Harry had finished making breakfast he plodded back to his ‘room’. He sat cross legged on his makeshift bed and reached into his pocket to retrieve Hermione’s letter. He smoothed out the crumpled up envelope with care and opened the seal slowly. Inside was the neatly folded parchment and familiar scent of his best friends house. He read the letter quietly into himself.  
—

Dear Harry,

Oh I’m sorry Harry. It doesn’t sound like a very good birthday party. I guess that explains why you didn’t answer my other letters. To make it up to you, I’ll bring in some cookies Grandma and I baked in on Monday. (Sugar free of course.)

Something weird? Can’t wait to hear all about it.

From Hermione.

P.S Harry please watch your spelling! I’m giving you a pocket sized dictionary on Monday.

—

Harry smiled down at the letter and let out a chuckle. Only Hermione could offer a dictionary and cookies in the same letter! He folded the letter back up again and placed it in an old box on his shelf along with Hermione’s other letters. He then pulled on the hanging light switch, the room going dark. “Tomorrow can’t come quick enough.” he sighed, covering his face with his blanket.

—  
Harry bounced over to his and Hermione’s desk that Monday Morning. She was already there jotting down notes in her copy book, her brows wrinkled in concentration. Harry shook his head; Typical. He pulled out his chair beside her, the legs scratching the hard wood floor. Hermione squeezed her eyes closed at the sound. “I hate that noise” she said, as a shiver ran up her spine. Harry grinned brightly at her “Yeah, I know. You say that every morning.” he chuckled. Hermione turned to face him, a serious look on her face. “What?” Harry said in a worried tone, his eyebrows raised. “Harry, did you get my letter?” she said seriously. “Yes?” Harry squinted his eyes at her in a where-is-this-going sort of way. “Oh good” she breathed. “I have the dictionary for you here because Harry, your spelling really is atrocious.” she continued, while she searched her bag for said object.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted, gawking at her. “What?” she answered, proudly handing him the small dictionary. Harry took it from her, glanced at it and put it to one side. “I thought you were going to tell me something seriously important.” Harry grumbled. “Harry, spelling is seriously important.” Hermione scolded. Harry stared at her in disbelief before sighing and shaking his head.

—

“So what was the weird something you had to tell me then?” Hermione asked Harry as they sat at their usual lunch table. Harry had just taken a big bite of one of Grandma Granger’s homemade cookies. He hummed contently. “Harry!” Hermione snapped. “Sorry, but these cookies are delicious. I’m never allowed anything nice.” Harry apologised before reaching for another one. Hermione stared at Harry sadly; pity in her brown eyes. How she wished she could help him.

“But yeah, the weird thing. I was carrying Dudley’s presents around just wishing that they weren’t so heavy and then all of a sudden they weren’t.” Harry whispered intently. “What do you mean they weren’t?” Hermione asked him, a look of confusion on her pretty face. “I mean they weren’t heavy anymore. At all. Because they were..” he paused looking around them to inspect the lunch room. He gestured with his hand for Hermione to come closer. She leaned over the table and Harry cupped his hands to her ear and whispered “Because they were floating.” Hermione snapped her head back “Floating!?” she shouted. “Shhh, keep your voice down” he shushed her putting a finger to his lips. “Harry, that’s not possible.” she protested. “Well i’m just telling you what I saw. I got so freaked out they just fell from mid air to the floor and then Uncle Vernon shouted at me for dropping them.” Harry described with pleading eyes. “You have to believe me, Hermione. I’m not making it up.” he begged. Hermione studied her best friend’s face, his eyes held nothing but truth. She didn’t believe he was lying but she couldn’t understand how something could float as if by magic. This was for a much needed library trip, she thought. “I believe you, Harry. I don’t know how, but I do.” She spoke softly, giving him a reassuring nod. “Thanks Hermione, I knew you would.” he beamed at her before leaning across the table and wrapping his arms around hers. Hermione heard a few whispers and giggles of other students in the hall. Her cheeks turned bright red but if Harry noticed, he didn’t seem to care.

—

Hermione spent the whole evening after school researching anything she could about floating objects. Finding nothing she found suitable she deemed a library trip was the only option. She crawled into her bed completely shattered, kicking off her fuzzy slippers and finger combing her frizzy mane of hair. She was already tucked up in bed when she realised she forgot to turn off her desk lamp. “Oh how I wish I could just turn it off from here” she groaned pulling her pillow around her head to block out the light. Unknown to a sleeping Hermione, the light was extinguished and the room turned dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please let me know your thoughts! :) xo


	3. Harry's Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I'm so very sorry about the wait on this chapter. (if anyone was waiting!) I had SO much college work to do. :/ Anyway, shout out to Bells & Charlie Hewson for commenting on my last chapter and for motivating me to upload this one. Thank you! & I hope you all enjoy. xoxo
> 
> (btw this chapter is slightly shorter so sorry if that bothers anyone and as always, all mistakes are my own!)

Chapter 3

“Harry! What took you so long?” Hermione scolded as Harry arrived at their neighbourhood park. He was panting - clearly out of breath - his dark hair even more of a mess and his left shoelace was untied. “Sorry Hermione, but you know what they’re like.” Harry apologised running a hand through his hair. “Now what’s so urgent that we had to meet here?” He sat down on the swing beside Hermione and stared at her expectantly. “Well” she swallowed “As you know I have been researching the Weird Something for the last three months and I think i’ve finally got it.” she bragged. Harry gave her a look as if to say: well go on then. “Science” she announced dramatically, holding her head high in pride. “Science?” Harry scoffed. “Yes, Harry. Think about it.” she replied slowly. “I was reading an interesting book in the library the other day when I came across Levitation Technology and I-”   
“Leva what?” Harry interrupted, staring at her like she was mental. “Let me finish!” she snapped. “Scientists in Switzerland have developed a new technique to levitate objects in the air by using sound waves. So don’t you see, Harry? It wasn’t magic, it was science!” Hermione declared smiling maniacally at him.

“Okay so what you’re saying, Hermione..” Harry started holding his head with both hands, his brain hurt from all the smart words that spilled out of his best friends mouth. “..is that there just happened to be sound waves around when Dudley’s presents started to float?” He questioned, blinking twice at her. “Well yes, that’s got to be it.” Hermione said confidently.

Harry got up quickly and began walking back and forth in front of the swing set. He scratched his head and pointed a finger towards Hermione. “Alright, say that is it. Then how do you explain all the other weird stuff that’s been happening?” Harry asked, annoyance in his tone. Hermione breathed in deeply “One problem at a time, Harry.” She replied in a sing-song voice that showed just how tired she was with this too.

—

1 1/2 years later ( Age 10 1/2/ - 11 )

Dear Hermione,

We went to the zoo for Dudley’s birthday and the strangest thing happened. I talked to a SNAKE. A real one, I promise. And it understood me and everything. And Dudley had to go and annoy it and press his big face against the glass and then all of a sudden the glass disappeared! and he FELL IN! And do you know what the weirdest part was? The snake talked back to me. It TALKED. This has to be the biggest Weird Something yet.

I’m sitting in my cupboard as usual writing this, Uncle Vernon grounded me for like the millionth time. He blames me for what happened. I don’t see how, it wasn’t my fault. I don’t know when I’ll get this to you but I hope you read it soon.

From Harry.

P.S Still using your dictionary. Am I getting any better?

—

Harry awoke to the same thump of Vernon’s fist against his door. He groaned, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. “I’m up!” he yelled through a tired yawn. He scuffed his feet against the carpet as he went to pick the letters up from the ground beside the letter box. He spotted Hermione’s right away and quickly opened it, anxious to know what she thought of the “biggest Weird Something”

—

Dear Harry,

I believe you. Something weird happened me too. I can’t tell you much yet as i’m sworn to secrecy apart from my parents. But I do have to ask you one thing. Did you get a letter?

From Hermione.

P.S Yes, your spelling is improving quite splendidly, Harry! I’m glad my present has come of use. However, I would like you to work on your capitalisation and grammar next. They need a little bit of work.

—

Harry read Hermione’s letter once and then once again. He didn’t understand. “What letter?” he thought. He went through the rest of the letters as usual: one for Aunt Petunia, two for Uncle Vernon and one for…him.

Mr H. Potter  
The Cupboard under the stairs   
4\. Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

Harry’s eyes widened at the address. It was addressed to him. Exactly to him. They even knew he was sleeping under the stairs and the only people that knew were the Dursleys and Hermione. He walked into the kitchen slowly, never taking his eyes off the letter. He passed Uncle Vernon his letter and went to open his own. It was sealed with red wax, Harry had never seen something so fancy. Before he could get a chance it was snatched from his grasp by his cousin. “Dad! Look, Harry’s got a Letter!” shouted Dudley waving it in front of his father’s face. “It’s probably just that bloody girl again.” Vernon snorted, rolling his eyes. He glanced at the letter for the first time since his son handed it to him. His smirk dropped as he noticed the crest on the back, turning to his wife much paler than before.

—

  
Letters had been trying (and failing) to make it to Harry all week. Whoever it was sending them sure was determined, he thought. Uncle Vernon had burned the letters and bolted the letter box shut and Harry thought there was no possible way he was going to get any letters. From anyone. Not even Hermione; and that’s what saddened him the most. He wondered what his best friend was doing and what the weird thing was that she was talking about.

“Fine day, Sunday.” Uncle Vernon said, sighing contently. “In my opinion, best day of the week! Why is that Dudley?” he asked his son, who was crouched down beside his Mother in the sitting room. Dudley gave a weak shrug. Harry knew why Uncle Vernon was so happy. “Because there’s no post on Sundays?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as polite as possible and offering his Uncle a biscuit. Anything to see Hermione again. “Right you are, Harry! No post on Sundays. Ha!” He gave a manic little laugh, devilishly please with himself. “No blasted letters today. Not one. Not even from that bloody girl!”

Harry gazed out the lace curtains of the sitting room window. The whole front garden was completely covered in owls. He was so memorised by their beauty. “But where have they come from?” he thought.

Suddenly in amongst the fireplace a single letter came fluttering swiftly down the chimney and hit Uncle Vernon on the mouth. Harry quickly turned around from the window to inspect the scene in front of him when a low rumbling sound echoed from within the chimney. The room began to fill with hundreds of letters that would put his and Hermione’s collection to shame. “Make it stop! Please make it stop!” Dudley shrieked, clinging to his Mothers arm.

Harry jumped onto the coffee table and grabbed the first letter that would let him, he rushed out of the sitting room and into the hallway with Uncle Vernon shouting behind him. “If he could just get the lock on the cupboard door open” he thought as he struggled with the lock. Uncle Vernon staggered into the hallway, trying with all his might to get past the flying array of letters. He grabbed Harry forcefully by the shoulders. “Get off! They’re my letters!” Harry yelled, trying to push the man away. “That’s it! We’re going away. Far away! Where they can’t find us!” Vernon Bellowed still trying to control a struggling Harry. Petunia and her son looked on, horrified. “Daddy’s gone mad, hasn’t he?” Dudley let out in a terrified voice, the house continuing to fill up with letters. 

 


	4. Hermione's Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! :) Here's the next chapter! It's set before Harry got his letter and shows you what it was like for Hermione to receive her letter. This chapter was kind of hard for me to write, so hopefully it doesn't suck too bad! I want to say a big thank you to ejecily, Charlie and anyone else who's left comments/kudos or is just reading and keeping up with the story. It means a lot that anyone is willing to read anything I write! So I hope you enjoy and please excuse any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, I unfortunately am not Hermione Granger. :( xo

Chapter 4  
(Friday morning - before Harry received his letter)

Hermione sat quietly at her dining room table, her petite fingers drummed the dark wood. She studied the envelope in great detail, brushing her thumb over the once tacky surface of the seal. The crest above the seal was obviously a school but she didn’t remember applying to any schools. Had her parents applied for her? Would she be shipped off to a boarding school all alone? “What will I tell Harry?” she thought, worriedly.

She bit the inside of her cheek and took a deep breath. She shakily broke the seal and opened the neatly folded letter.

—

Dear Ms Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival, the dates for which shall be duly advised.  
Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.

We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Hogwarts heritage.

Yours sincerely,

Professor McGonagall

—

  
Hermione glanced up from her letter, “Witchcraft and Wizardry?” she mouthed to herself in a disbelieving tone. She pushed herself up from the dining room table and paced back and forth along side it. “Okay, this has to be a practical joke. Witches aren’t real.” she spoke aloud into the empty room. The only noise being the continued taping of her new shoes against the hard wood floor.

Hermione jumped, the loud ringing of the door bell startling her. She let out a slow puff of air, blowing up her frizzy bangs. Knowing her parents were upstairs working she raced towards the front door, opening it quickly. On the other side of the door stood a woman dressed in emerald green robes. Her dark hair was greying slightly and it was scraped back into a high bun. She had small, thin framed glasses perched on the end of her nose and Hermione could see she was eying her suspiciously through them.

Hermione blushed and cleared her throat “Can I help you?” she asked the woman politely. “I do believe you can, are you Hermione Granger?” she asked in quite a formal tone. Hermione's brown eyes widened slightly. “Yes, yes I am. Who are you?” The woman smiled warmly down at her, her suspicious eyes softened. “Forgive me, I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” the woman announced proudly. Hermione breathed in a sharp breath. “So the letter was real?” she thought as she gazed up at the mysterious woman in front of her. “You did get your letter?” Professor McGonagall asked, a slight frown tugging at her lips. “Yes, I got it just now; only moments ago.” Hermione confirmed, nodding her head. “Oh good, may I come in then? I’m sure you have a lot of questions” McGonagall guessed as she entered the Grangers front door. “I haven’t actually told my parents yet, they’re upstairs working. They’re dentists, you see. Friday is the day they work from home, you know paper work and things” Hermione rambled on as she guided the professor into the dining room. “Please sit, I’ll fetch them for you.” McGonagall quirked her eyebrow at the small girl and suppressed a slight chuckle of amusement as she watched her race out of the room, her brown hair bouncing behind her.

Hermione entered moments later - like she promised - tugging her bewildered parents behind her. “Professor, these are my parents.” Hermione spoke, gesturing to them both. “How do you do, Mr and Mrs Granger? Let me introduce myself. I am Minerva McGonagall, Professor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” she put out her hand and gracefully shook Mr and Mrs Grangers hands.   
“Oh, nice to meet you but excuse me I must of heard wrong, did you just say witchcraft and wizardry?” Mr Granger noted, a line forming between his brows. McGonagall smiled at him, she was quite used to dealing with muggle parents at this point and their confusion was nothing new. “Yes, I did. I know this may come as quite a shock but, we would like your daughter to attend our school. We pride ourselves in being one of the finest wizarding schools in the world and I think she will become a fine student.” Hermione beamed at the praise, completely enchanted by the woman. Mr and Mrs Granger however were not looking as pleased. “B-but how do you know this? How did you get our address? Surely this isn’t real, right?” Mrs Granger stuttered bringing her hands to her temples and letting out a frustrated sigh. McGonagall stared at the woman, realising she would have to go into further detail. Some parents catch on quicker than others and are more open minded, but some - like Hermione’s - base what they do in life solely on facts. She grabbed the letter from the dining table and passed it to Mrs Granger to read for herself.   
“It most certainly is real.” McGonagall started. “Has Hermione ever displayed any skills? Anything that may seem slightly out of the ordinary?” she asked, peering at the Grangers from where she sat.

Mrs Granger (After reading the letter twice over) sat down cautiously opposite the other woman. She thought for a moment and then nodded slightly, glancing up at her husband who stood behind her with his hands placed firmly on the back of her chair. “Well yes, Hermione is an extremely intelligent and gifted child.” she replied, darting her eyes quickly to her daughter. “I assume she is” McGonagall agreed easily. “But has she done anything? Said anything that you couldn’t explain?” McGonagall offered, looking at Mrs Granger intently. “There have been moments, perhaps. But my Husband and I have put it down to odd coincidences.” Mrs Granger gave a weak shrug.

Hermione - who had also thought there was always some sort of logic behind everything - could see why her parents were a little sceptical. So she raised her hand in a polite manner and muttered a small “excuse me.” Both McGonagall and her parents turned to look at her. “If I could just interrupt for a moment.” she began, her voice was slightly louder this time. “I have displayed magical abilities but I did not tell my parents as I too, thought they were ‘odd coincidences’ but I now know I was wrong. My friend Harry had tried to tell me but I always tried to find a reasonable answer and I-” Hermione stopped her ramble when she caught Professor McGonagalls expression at the mention of her best friend. “Is something wrong, professor?” Hermione asked her, worry creasing her forehead. McGonagall composed herself. “No, nothing dear. You just mentioned you had a friend called Harry? And he has been exposed to these occurrences also?” she asked in a nonchalant tone. “Yes, he had them before me! Will he get to go to Hogwarts too?” Hermione exclaimed, beaming at the woman. McGonagall couldn’t help smiling at Hermione’s excited face. “Perhaps.” she hinted with a mysterious twinkle in her eyes. She reached into the pocket of her emerald robes and handed Hermione a small letter. “This was on your front door step when I arrived. You must of missed it.” She added, grinning knowingly.

Hermione gasped. “That’s a letter from Harry! We write to each other all the time. I can’t wait to tell him about Hogwarts.” She smiled brightly, tugging at the seal of the envelope. “Oh i’m afraid you can not.” McGonagall insisted. Hermione's eyes dulled instantly. Noticing this, McGonagall quickly added. “You mustn’t tell anyone about this Miss Granger. It is only to be shared between you and your parents until such times as you and Mr Po-” she paused. “Until such times as Harry receives his letter, that is if he receives one.” she added swiftly. Hermione nodded at her sadly. “Oh, okay.” She sighed. “Could I at least ask him if he received a letter?” Hermione asked, brown eyes widening with hopefulness. McGonagall gazed down at the small girl before letting out an “Oh, very well.” with a wave of her hand.

Hermione asked to be excused from the dining room as she rushed upstairs to her bedroom to grab her pens and her nice paper from her table. Professor McGonagall stayed downstairs with the Grangers and talked to them more about Hogwarts, Diagon Alley and how to get there. She went over the list of things Hermione would need for her classes, Mrs Granger gasped when McGonagall had told her Hermione would need a wand. She couldn’t tell whether it was out of amazement or horror, though when she was finished she felt quite accomplished when the Grangers agreed to let their daughter attend Hogwarts.

“Hermione, darling?” Mr Granger called upstairs, his loud voice echoing off of their high ceilings. McGonagall heard a door handle open and frantic little footsteps tapping along the hallway floor. She caught a mess of brown curls first and then settled her eyes on Hermione’s large, bright ones. “Yes?” She called back, slightly out of breath. “Professor McGonagall was just leaving, we thought you’d like to say goodbye?” He asked her, bringing his broad arm around her shoulder as she came to stand beside him. “Yes of course. Thank you so very much for coming, Professor.” Hermione said, staring up at her. McGonagall smiled a gentle sort of smile and put out her hand for Hermione to shake. “It was so lovely to meet you, Miss Granger. I look forward to your arrival in September.” she said, shaking her small hand. “September? Does that mean..?” Hermione squealed, noticing her father’s nodding head. She threw her arms around Mr Grangers neck, smiling brightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried. Mr Granger let out an amused chuckle. She went over to her Mother next and gave her a hug and a sweet kiss to her cheek. “Whatever made you change your mind?” she asked her Mother, bewildered. Mrs Granger glanced over at Professor McGonagall and grinned. “Lets just say, Professor McGonagall can be very persuasive. If our daughter is a witch we want her going to the best school there is.” she stared down proudly at her daughter and brushed her fingers fondly over her frizzing curls.   
“But remember, no discussing this with anyone. That is extremely important.” McGonagall said seriously. “Oh, I won’t.” Hermione swore. Anything to prove to this woman she was the perfect student. “Good. Well I shall be off, busy day ahead.” McGonagall breathed. Mr Granger opened the door for her and they all walked her outside. “Will you be sending more letters to other students today?” Hermione asked curiously. “Yes, lots of muggle families to see this year.” Hermione wrinkled her nose at the word “muggle” and wanted to ask what it meant, but decided to save it for another time when her professor was less busy.

She waved her hand at the strange and wonderful woman, her head filling with a thousand thoughts and questions about this amazing new world she had suddenly been thrown into. Oh how she wished Harry was part of this too. It was as if this thought brought her back to the realisation that she still hadn’t finished her letter to Harry. She raced back up the stairs into her bedroom to retrieve her abandoned letter. She swiftly sat down and continued from where she left off.   
  
-

Dear Harry,

I believe you. Something weird happened me too. I can’t tell you much yet as i’m sworn to secrecy apart from my parents. But I do have to ask you one thing. Did you get a letter?

From Hermione.

P.S Yes, your spelling is improving quite splendidly, Harry! I’m glad my present has come of use. However, I would like you to work on your capitalisation and grammar next. They need a little bit of work.

-

She giggled at the thought of Harry still using her dictionary. He really had got better at his spelling. She folded the letter neatly in the ‘proper’ way her Grandfather had taught her and licked the seal on the envelope shut when the letter was safely slotted into place. Hermione got up from her spot by the window and pranced back downstairs to ask her father if he could please post the letter on his way to the supermarket. She had learned from past experiences that it wasn’t wise to try post the letter herself. You would think it would be easier to just post the letter by hand as they both lived quite close to each other but Mr and Mrs Dursley refused to let Hermione near the house after she tried to shove ham and cheese sandwiches through the letterbox along with her letter a couple of years back.

After her father had left with Harrys letter she sat down in her big arm chair in her room and re read her Hogwarts letter. She brushed her hands over the beautiful thick parchment and sighed deeply. She really hoped Harry had gotten a letter from Professor McGonagall too. There was no way she could do this without him. Imagine going to Hogwarts to learn magic without Harry? She almost laughed at the thought.


	5. Hagrid's Arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. It's been ages! 
> 
> What can I say, i'm a terrible updater! I have been super busy with finals and hand ups and just school and work in general. bleh! But they are nearly over! Yay! :D So hopefully that means more frequent updates. :) 
> 
> I want to say a big thank you to everyone who's commented on this story, read it or gave it kudos. You are all amazing! Shoutout to Rio for the constructive criticism. I hope I did better this time (Fingers crossed) and to Elie for her kickass long comments and Charlie for being lovely and for her constant support! :) <3
> 
> This chapter contains some dialogue from the book/movie as I wanted it to be pretty authentic to the story. I in no way own this dialogue and all mistakes are my own because I can't spell for shit! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! :) xoxo

  
The sound of thunder clattering broke the continued taping of the rapid rainfall against the window. Harry pulled his worn orange blanket closer around himself and lay down beside the dying fire. He drew a picture of a birthday cake on the dusty floor boards and whispered “Make a wish, Harry.” before pretending to blow out the candles. The dust swirled up into the air, causing Harry’s nose to twitch a little. He watched it absentmindedly, his thoughts drifting to his best friend back home. He wondered when he would see her again, when he’d even be able to write to her again. That was his birthday wish. Well, part of it at least. The other part was a way to get as far away from the Dursley’s as possible; somewhere he and Hermione could spend as much time as they wanted together.

Harry was awoken from his mindless thoughts by a loud banging. He let out a slight yelp as the large front door of their temporary house came tumbling forward with a loud thump and a crack of the floorboards. Puffs of dusty smoke clouded the air and blurred whoever was in the doorway from his view.

He jumped up from his spot on the floor and backed away from the door. He noticed Dudley was awake now too, visibly trembling from head to toe. His aunt and uncle were standing on the old wooden staircase. Aunt Petunia a few steps behind her husband, sporting bright pink hair curlers and a floral night dress. If Harry hadn’t been so frightened he would have wondered how she could wear something so light in weather conditions like this. Uncle Vernon tried to be the brave one, clutching a shot gun to his chest, but his weak “Who’s there?” gave him away and Harry knew that if anyone was going to save them from the intruder tonight, it wasn’t going to be Vernon.

The clouds of dust began to clear from the air and in it’s place was a huge human frame. Harry wasn’t even sure whether this person could even be called human as it was the tallest person he’d ever seen. It had a great big bushy beard that would rival any lion mane…or his best friends hair on a humid day. He - Harry could tell it was a He at this point - had a huge tattered trench coat and big black boots that let out a thump every time he moved them.

Dudley let out a sharp “Ahhh!” and scooted further away from the door, his face even paler than usual. His mother and father were holding each other tightly by the staircase as if frozen by fear.

“Sorry about that.” The large man said, his voice loud in Harry’s small ears. But Harry was surprised to find how friendly the voice seemed. He had expected something along the lines of “I’m going to kill you all!” said in a gruesome horror villain style voice. The man lifted up the heavy wooden door with one hand as if it weighed nothing at all and clicked it securely back into place.

“I demand that you leave at once” Vernon bellowed from across the room. His shot gun, although directly pointed at the large man, was quivering so fiercely that Harry thought if his uncle were to shoot there was a very good chance he’d miss his giant target. The man turned to Vernon with a stern look on his face so he added a meek “sir” to his pitiful demand. The large intruder rolled his eyes in a way that would of humoured Harry, had he not been frighted for his life.

The man slowly made his way towards his Uncle, the floor boards groaned under his giant feet. He stood face to face with his uncle…or in reality, face to chest, and grabbed for the long barrel of the shot gun and bent it upwards. “Dry up Dursley, you great prune.” The bearded man spat. Out of terror, Vernon pulled the trigger on the gun; but all it did was make a rather large hole in the ceiling. The booming noise the gun made was echoed by strangled gasps from the three Dursleys. Harry stood motionless, slightly hidden behind part of the buildings stone wall.   
The man strolled over calmly to Dudley, as if he hadn’t just barged into their temporary home and bent a gun in two. “Well I haven’t seen you since you was a baby, Harry. You’re a bit more long than I was expectin’. Particularly ‘round the middle.” he chuckled slightly, gesturing to his own stomach.

Dudley’s eyes widened in shock. He tried to breathe deeply but ended up gasping and stuttering as a response. “Ah, I’m-I’m not Harry.” he finally got out. The mans brows creased in confusion and Dudley stared up at him, wishing for the first time in his life that he was Harry.

“I-I’m Harry.” Harry stuttered before venturing out of the corner he was in. A look of uncertainty plastered his face. He wondered why this man could possibly want him, he wasn’t anything special. But as much as Harry disliked Dudley, he wasn’t going to hide in a corner all his life and let Dudley take the blame for whatever it was he had done.

“Well of course you are!” The man exclaimed, his face held a much happier expression than before. Harry gulped noisily and moved his hand self consciously to his weird scar on his forehead. “Got somethin’ for ye. ‘Fraid I might of sat on it at some point but I imagine it’ll taste fine just the same.” The man said, digging through his roomy coat pocket. He emerged with a medium sized white box, tied with purple ribbon. He gave it to Harry, who struggled to take the box with both of his small hands, the older man had made it look so light.

“Baked it meself, words an’ all.” the man said proudly, his eyes sparkling. Dudley peered over Harry’s shoulder with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Curiosity because he wanted to know what was inside the parcel, and disgust because the big ugly brute didn’t bring him one.

Harry carefully untied the purple ribbon and opened the lid of the white cardboard box. Inside was a pink buttercream cake, with the words “Happee Birthday Harry” scrolled on it with green icing. Harry suppressed a chuckle. This cake was clearly not sugar free, he could smell the sweet substance already wafting through the air. Sugar and bad spelling? Oh, Hermione would hate this cake! But as for Harry, he couldn’t get over the generosity of this stranger. “Thank you.” he smiled, gratefully.

“It’s not everyday yer young man turns 11 now, is it?” the large man said, grinning down at Harry. He clumsily rocked back and forth on his feet as if deciding what to do next and slumped back into the tiny couch by the fire. It wasn’t as if the couch was always tiny; It is important to note that this couch normally seats three full grown humans.

The man pulled out a small pink umbrella from his large coat pocket and pointed it towards the dying fire. The flames arose from their slumber, once again burning bright orange and reds. Harry’s eyes widened at the display and his uncle and aunt shared horrified glances.

Harry put his cake to one side and walked tentatively over towards the giant man. “E-excuse me? But who are you?”

The man glanced over at Harry, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He had never thought of introducing himself. “Rubeus Hagrid. I’m the keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts.” He replied, very proudly. Hagrid gazed into the yellow flames of the fire, it was burning quite well now, thanks to his little umbrella. “Of course, you know all about Hogwarts though.” He added to Harry’s question as an after thought.

Harry quirked his dark eyebrow at Hagrid. A look of confusion graced his features. “Sorry, no I haven’t.” He shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

“No?!” Hagrid’s head shot up. He squinted his eyes at Harry, as if he didn’t believe him. “Blimey Harry! Didn’t you ever wonder where yer Mum and Dad learned it all?” he asked with genuine curiosity.   
Harry stared up at Hagrid from behind his rounded glasses, the light from the fire flickering in their reflection. “What do you mean? Learnt what?” he asked him, feeling completely lost.

Hagrid paused for a second to prepare himself. “You’re a wizard, Harry.” he declared finally. His usually quite friendly toned voice held a serious note and lacked anything but certainty.

Harry stared awe-struck at Hagrid, his eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider. “Im a what?” he managed to get out. He needed to hear it again, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming this whole thing. Harry was known for his crazy dreams and he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up right now to his small, cramped room under the stairs.

“A wizard” Hagrid confirmed, with a nod of his head. “ And a bloody good one at that, i’d bet. Once you’ve trained up a bit.” He added, confidently.

The Dursley’s continued to watch the conversation from the staircase. Petunia glanced worriedly at her husband, she knew he hated anything remotely out of the ordinary. As she suspected, his face was red with rage.

Harry hadn’t even noticed his uncles anger, being completely caught up in Hagrid’s words. Could it be possible that he was right and Hermione was wrong all along? That they were displaying magical powers and it wasn’t something science could explain? But then again, when was Hermione ever wrong? He shook his head slightly, finally deciding it was impossible. “I think you’ve made a mistake, I can’t be a wizard.” he told Hagrid, regrettably. He could tell by Hagrid’s face that he did not agree.

Harry tried to justify himself by saying “I mean, I’m just Harry.” He was nobody important, he thought. He repeated “Just Harry” to Hagrid, almost pleadingly. He had to know Harry wasn’t anything special, that he had the wrong person.

Hagrid looked at the boy pityingly and sighed slightly. “Well ‘just Harry’ , did you ever make anything happen? When you were angry…or scared?” he asked him, hoping that would give Harry the push he needed to see what he was.

Harry paused considering that. His memory gave him flashes of all the “weird somethings” he and Hermione have witnessed throughout the years. Had he made them happen? Had she? He hadn’t realised how long he was lost in thought until Hagrid let out a “Mmhmm.” and gave him a knowing smile.

Hagrid got up and placed his large hand into the pocket of his coat and retrieved a creamy white envelope and handed it to Harry. Harry noticed what it was immediately, his house was filled with them after all. He pulled open the seal carefully and took out relatively thick parchment. It was quite fancy paper, he thought. Much fancier than anything he had seen before and even better quality than Hermione’s “nice paper”.

He opened the neatly folded letter and read aloud “Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Harry’s voice got higher towards the end. He went to read on but was cut off by the sight of his uncle wobbling his way over towards him. His hair was sticking up at all sides as if he’d been electrocuted and his eyes were wild with anger.

“He will not be going I tell you! We swore we’d put a stop to all this rubbish” He spat, glaring at Hagrid. He glared just enough to put his point across but not enough for Hagrid to get angry and eat him. Or worse, use that magic umbrella stick.

“You knew? All this time and you didn’t tell me?” Harry shouted, glancing back and forth between his aunt and uncle. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. How dare they keep something so important from him.

Petunia let out a harsh scoff. “Of course we knew! How could you not be?” She crossed her arms and moved across the room to her nephew. “My perfect sister, being the thing that she was.” She stressed the word perfect in mocking, sarcastic manner that made Harry’s blood boil. “My mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter.” Petunia rolled her eyes at the thought and placed her hands on her hips dramatically. “We had a witch in the family, isn’t wonderful? I was the only one to see her for what she really was, a freak!” she hissed. “ And then she met that Potter and had you and I knew you’d turn out the exact same. Then she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you.” she finished menacingly.

“Blown up?!” Harry shouted angrily at her. “You told me my parents died in a car crash.”

“A car crash? Lily and James Potter died in a car crash?!” Hagrid roared at the Dursely’s. He couldn’t believe his ears. Vernon jumped at Hagrid’s bellowing voice, but his wife stood strong, her face stone cold with hatred. She gazed at her husband expectingly, trying to silently send him a signal. Vernon cleared his throat and turned his attention back on Hagrid. “He’ll not be going.” he declared, in as strong of a voice as he could muster. In comparison to Hagrid’s booming bellow, it was nothing but a mere croak.

“Oh yeah?” Hagrid laughed. “And I suppose a great muggle like yourself is going to stop him?” he dared, smirking.

“Muggle?” Harry piped up, having never heard that word before. He peered up at Hagrid’s tall form, awaiting an answer.

Hagrid took his eyes off of the Dursely’s and briefly turned to Harry. “Non magic folk.” he answered and then snapped his head back to Vernon. “The boy’s had his name down since before he was born. He’s going to go to the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and he’ll be with the finest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen; Albus Dumbledore” He declared. The way in which Hagrid said the headmasters name made Harry think he was someone very special indeed. He smiled slightly in nervous anticipation of one day meeting this man.

Vernon glowered at Hagrid. “I will not pay to have some old fool teach him some silly magic tricks.” he hollered. The look on Hagrid’s face made him regret the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Hagrid raised his umbrella and pointed it directly at Vernon. Petunia gasped, loosing her strong demeanour and raced to hide behind her husband. “Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me.” Hagrid said in a frighteningly calm manner, which made it all the more worrisome in Vernon’s mind. Hagrid stood staring at the man when a sound from behind distracted him.

Dudley was bent over Harry’s birthday cake, franticly stuffing as much as he could into his mouth. Hagrid raised an eyebrow as if to ponder for a moment and then swiftly moved his umbrella towards the boy. A flash of bright blue-white light emerged from the tip of his umbrella and shot straight at Dudley. When the light vanished, in it’s place was a small curly pink tail.

Petunia shrieked at the sight of her darling boy with a pigs tale, she ran towards him screaming manically grasping for his shoulders to keep him still. Dudley yelled in terror, holding the tail in his hand and spinning panically in circles. He raced around the house in a frenzy and his uncontrollable screaming parents followed suit.

Harry beamed up at Hagrid, this was the best thing that’s ever happened to the Dursleys. Hagrid grinned back at him and said in a low voice “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this. Strictly speaking, i’m not allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts.”   
“Okay” Harry answered, feeling disappointed he couldn’t tell Hermione about what had happened. Hagrid pulled out an ancient looking pocket watch from the inside of his coat and glanced at the time with a frown. “Looks like we’re a little behind schedule.” He noted, walking towards the front door; his big boots thumped along the floorboards. He raised his giant hands up to the top of the door and lifted it off their hinges again. It dropped to the floor with an alarming crash. Harry feared the floor may cave in. Hagrid seemed oblivious to this and turned to Harry again. “Unless you want to stay here of course?” He joked, gesturing with his head to the whirling mess of yells and shrieks.

Harry’s eyes widened for what felt like the millionth time that night. “I get to go with you?” He questioned, disbelievingly. Hagrid smiled brightly at him. “Well of course you do, did you think I was going to leave you here with these lot?” He teased gently.

Harry broke into a warm happy grin at the friendly giant, whom he now knew to be called Hagrid. The only person besides Hermione to ever get him a cake. As he stared up at the large bearded man, the lightening casting a silver glow around him, he no longer looked frightening. Harry just knew he could trust this man, after all, he’d known his parents. He tread along the wet wooden floor, being careful not to slip and stood beside Hagrid. “Hagrid? How did you even get here?” he asked bewildered.

Hagrid chuckled. It wasn’t a sound Harry had ever heard before, it was a hearty kind of chuckle. Not full on laughter, but very close. Harry decided it was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard, right up there with the way the wind sounds when it rustles through leaves on tall tree branches and when Hermione hums absent-mindedly to herself when she’s reading a good book.

“Well, we fly of course!” Hagrid cried gleefully, patting Harry’s shoulder. He guided Harry out into the grey, stormy night. Harry’s vision was blurred by the rapid rain fall but Hagrid kept his hand firmly on his shoulder to keep him steady as they walked along the large stoney “pathway.” Harry disagreed on this term as technically the whole house was surrounded by large rocks and water.

“What do you mean fly?” Harry asked when he could catch his breath. It wasn’t a moment out of his mouth when his eyes landed on a large silver-blue motorcycle. It had a side car attached and everything. Harry’s eyes lit up, it looked wonderful. A thought then dawned on Harry, motorcycles couldn’t fly, could they? “Hagrid, I thought you said we were flying?” Harry asked confused.

“We are, Harry my boy.” He said, placing large glasses over his eyes. He lifted Harry up without warning and placed him neatly in the sidecar. He raised a heavy leg over the motorcycle seat and turned the key. A large roar sounded from the engine and they began to rise up into the air. “Hold on tight Harry.” Hagrid warned him, however a warm smile was still present on his features.

They flew speedily through the night air, the wind whipping through Harry’s dark messy hair. His glasses sat askew on his nose and his teeth began to chatter, but Harry didn’t mind, he was having the time of his life. The dark grey clouds settled like smoke around them as they went further and further away from the Dursley’s.

After a while, a string of lights came into view and Harry sat up straighter in his seat. “Where are we going, Hagrid?” Harry asked, trying to shout over the loud engine and the sound of the wind in his ears. Hagrid glanced over at Harry, not wanting to look at him for too long as he was concentrating on driving. Harry could see the bright grin on his face regardless.

“Why, to Miss Granger’s of course.” Hagrid replied, his eye’s sparkling, just as Hermione’s house came into view.


	6. A night at the Grangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Okay. I am a horrible person. I officially suck at updates and completely understand if no-one is interested in this story anymore. I guess I could put it down to writers block but lets face it, a lot of it was procrastination. 
> 
> I'm going to be honest, i'm getting completely bogged down on what way to go with this story. Do I stick to the real Harry Potter story as much as I can and take you through Hermione and Harry's friendship through each year? Or do I stray completely from the year by year thing and go down the Love Rosie route where they go through their ages very quickly and skip a lot? 
> 
> I don't know, let me know your thoughts and what you would prefer to see. But nonetheless, here is the next chapter. :) ( Oh and I don't own Harry Potter/Love Rosie, obviously! and all mistakes are my own so sorry if there is/are any!) xoxo

Hermione was awoken from her sleep by a loud rattling engine spluttering to a stop. She bounced out of bed and raced across her room to her large window. Peeling back the curtains, she peered curiously outside, careful not to show too much of her face incase whoever made the noise looked up. 

There, in her front lawn, stood an overly large motorcycle and a big bearded man with comical looking goggles. The man appeared to be talking to someone but she couldn’t see anyone else from where she was standing. 

Out of nowhere, she heard her front door open and out walked her father into their garden. He had his old blue dressing gown wrapped tightly around him and he was wearing his tartan slippers Hermione had brought him last Christmas. He stretched out his long fingered hand towards the large man and shook his giant hand. Her father then turned to their front door and gestured for the man to follow him inside. The large man began to move, but behind him was a smaller figure. Much smaller, really. When the man was completely out of the way, Hermione let out a gasp. “Harry!” She placed her hands over her mouth. 

The sound of the front door opening again shook her from her shock at seeing her best friend and she ran down the hallway towards her staircase. She finger combed her bushy bed hair and gazed down the stairs. Her eyes immediately met Harry’s and she smiled brightly. He gave her a shy smile in return. “Alright, Hermione?” he asked, nodding his head in greeting. 

“I’m alright. You?” Hermione answered, still smiling down at him. He chuckled slightly and scratched his messy dark hair before answering. 

“Alright.” Harry said, humorously. Hermione laughed, and quickly made her way down the stairs, her too long pyjama bottoms trailing a little behind her. She embraced Harry in a warm hug, one that he was very grateful for, being that he was flying through the cold night air just minutes ago. He still felt slightly awkward when Hermione hugged him though, he never really had much experience with hugging and he was always at odds with what to do with his hands. 

“So Harry” Hermione spoke in a low whisper and brought her arms back to her sides again. “Did you get a letter?” She gazed at him with big hopeful eyes and long curling lashes. 

Harry squinted his eyes at her. “Yes?” it came out as a questions as he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to tell Hermione about Hogwarts just yet. 

Hermione’s face broke into a wide, toothy smile. “I knew you would! I got one too!” she said, bursting with excitement. 

Harry stared at her dumbfounded. Hermione was going to Hogwarts too? “Wait, so you’re a wizard too?” Harry asked her. “We’re really both going?” 

Hermione nodded at him enthusiastically, her brown curls bouncing. “Well technically i’m a witch. But yes, Harry! You were right all along. There really is such a thing as magic” She grabbed his hands in hers and held them tightly, grinning manically in front of him. To anyone beside Harry, she would of looked completely mental. But to him, she looked exactly like his best friend did about 80% of the time, so he wasn’t worried. He just smiled back at her fondly and thought about how wonderful it will be going to a school for magic with Hermione by his side.

A loud cough broke the two apart, it was the large bearded man from outside. He wore a bright toothy grin behind his dark bushy beard and his eyes seemed friendly, teasing almost. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I thought it be best to explain what’s going to happen.” The man said to Harry. 

Harry looked expectingly at Hagrid waiting for him to continue, while Hermione stood flushing by his side. 

“The Grangers have gave their permission to let you stay here for a couple of days and then i’m going to come back and take you all shopping for school supplies.” Hagrid explained. Hermione’s eyebrows shot up above her bushy bangs. Hagrid chuckled at her reaction and then extended his large hand towards the small girl. “Forgive me Miss Granger, I didn’t formally introduce meself. I am Rubeus Hagrid, gamekeeper at Hogwarts.”

Hermione shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” she smiled sweetly up at him. Hagrid let out another chuckle and waved his hand. “No need for this sir nonsense. Hagrid’ll do jus’ nicely.” he said, grinning down at her. Hermione thought she was going to like Hagrid. 

—

Mrs Granger showed Harry to their guest bedroom and he couldn’t believe this whole place was to himself. She had laid out a pair of Mr Grangers old pyjamas and some neatly folded towels on a chair by the window. Once he was dressed in the too-big sleeping attire, he crawled into the crisp cotton sheets and breathed in their fresh lavender scent. He buried his face deeper into the sheets and took advantage of how huge the bed actually was by sprawling out his limbs as far as they would reach. He slept in an actual bed for the first time in his life and he’d never known comfort like it. 

—

“Harry?” came Hermione’s soft voice as she tapped lightly on his bedroom door. Harry’s eyes shot open and for a moment he had forgotten where he was, and it didn’t help that his eyesight blurred due to his lack of glasses. He glanced over to the nightstand and made out two faint black circles and grasped blindly for them. 

Hermione opened the door and saw a flustered, messy haired Harry. Her fathers blue stripped pyjama top hung loosely over his slender shoulders and she could see his protruding collarbone a mile off. He had just grabbed his glasses and let out an “Ah-ha! There you are.” and he placed then on his nose with a satisfied smile. 

He felt the handle of his frames with the tips of his fingers and shouted “Ah-ah! There you are” and placed them securely on his nose where they belonged. His surroundings swiftly came into focus and along with them came an amused looking Hermione standing by the end of his bed with a silver tray full of food. “Hermione!” Harry yelled clutching the covers close to his chest, face burning. 

“Oh relax, Harry!” Hermione giggled, placing the tray down on the table beside him. She was still in her pyjamas too which set Harry’s mind to rest that he hadn’t slept in too much. He inspected the tray to his right for the first time since she came in. A stack of fluffy homemade pancakes with drizzled glistening maple syrup over top and a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. 

“What’s all this?” Harry asked her in awe. The sweet maple smell was filling his nostrils with each passing second. She smiled warmly at him. “It’s breakfast, Harry. Mum and I thought we’d make pancakes this morning.” Hermione replied simply. “You should begin eating, they’re much nicer warm.” she added. 

Harry shifted up into a seated position and Hermione placed the tray of goods on his knees. He cut a neat triangle out of the stack and stuck it in his mouth. A content sigh escaped his lips. “Oh my gosh, these are amazing!” he exclaimed, taking another bite. “Are you sure it’s okay to be eating up here like this?” Harry asked then, as an after thought. 

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to mind his feet. “Of course it is, you’re our guest!” Hermione promised, giving him a genuine smile. “Besides” she added jumping down from the bed. She bounced out of the bedroom and bounced in just as quickly holding a large wrapped box and pulling three balloons tied with string behind her. “It’s your birthday, remember?!” She yelled excitedly. 

Harry looked puzzled for a moment, his face passed from confusion, to remembering, to full on happiness. “I completely forgot today was my birthday!” he laughed. After all the commotion last night, it had seemed to slip his mind, Hagrid’s thoughtful pink cake and all. It seemed like weeks ago. 

“I forgot to wish you Happy Birthday last night.” Hermione fretted, her eyebrows furrowed. “And then this morning I woke up early to surprise you, but when I seen you weren’t catching on to the whole thing I wanted to wait and see how long it would take for you to realise.” she explained, grinning. “But by the way things were going, we would have been here all day before you noticed.” she joked. 

“Hey, I’m not that slow!” Harry announced, wrinkling his nose at her and sticking out his tongue. She chuckled lightly and took his now empty tray from his knee and placed it to the side before handing him the large parcel and card.

“Happy Birthday, Harry.” she said softly, her dark eyes beaming. He took the present from her with an appreciative smile. He began un-doing the blue silk ribbon and pulled at the sellotape holding the wrapping paper together. He felt bad opening his present first as he had seen Dudley do it one hundred times over and disregard the card and whom it was from. Harry liked to open his card first to show his respect to the person who took the time to think of him enough to want to put pen to paper. Not that he got very many, of course. Just usually Hermione and Secret Santa presents from school. But a few years ago, Hermione insisted that he open the present first as she always explains the present inside the card and it would ruin the surprise. 

So he carefully unwrapped the box, careful not to tear the paper too much and lifted the lid. Inside was blue and green stripped tissue paper covering the gifts. He pulled the tissue aside and his eyes fell upon a lovely emerald green jumper, a new pair of jeans and the most expense looking shoes Harry had ever seen. “Hermione, this is too much-“ She held a finger up to her lips and shushed him. 

“Harry, you do this every year. No it is not too much. You haven’t even looked at it all.” Hermione interrupted him and pulled the tissue paper out of the box completely. Behind the paper was even more paper! But this paper was no ordinary paper, it was sealed in a plastic case with a gold ribbon tied around it in a neat bow. It was Hermione’s ‘special paper’. 

Harry grinned over at her to her spot on his bed. “Hermione, your paper?” he asked her, a surprised tone to his voice. Hermione nodded at him and grinned slyly. “I thought you should take your letter game up a notch. You are eleven now, after all.” 

Harry laughed and shook his head fondly at her. It may just be paper to anyone else is the world. But to them, it was their world. It was the way they communicated most of the time and it built their friendship. Harry pushed the box tentatively aside and hesitated just briefly, before embracing Hermione in a tight hug. “Thank you, Hermione.” he whispered into her hair. 

“You’re welcome.” she muttered against his shoulder. He could feel her smile against him and for once he didn’t feel awkward, he felt completely comfortable and safe. He thought he could perhaps stay in that moment of happiness forever and his life would have been pretty great. But the moment was gone the minute Hermione pulled away. She handed him his card. “Here, you forgot to open this.” she reminded him. 

Harry took the white envelope from her and broke open it’s seal. Inside was a shiny card with “Happy Eleventh Birthday.” written on it in large red letters. It was surrounded with lots of floating balloons and a chocolate cake sat right in the centre. He opened the card and began to read:

__

 

Dear Harry, 

Happy Eleventh Birthday! I hope by now you’ve opened your presents and liked what I’ve got you. I couldn’t decide on the navy blue jumper or the emerald green one but finally decided on green as I thought it would match your eyes best. 

I got you new jeans as the ones you got second hand from Dudley were horrid and just miles too big for you! And I hope you like the shoes and that they fit ok. Honestly Harry, your feet grow so much I can never keep track of what size they are! If they don’t fit Mum kept the receipt and said we can go get them changed today. 

And finally, the paper. I felt it was time to get you some nice, good quality paper as I don’t know about you, but i’d like to keep our letters and read them back when we’re really old! 

I hope I celebrate every Birthday you have with you, Harry. You’re my best friend and I can’t think of a time i’d be without you. 

And now, the best news of all is we get to go to school together. I’m not going to write down the name incase someone ever reads this and finds out but you know what I mean! I’m so excited! 

Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful Birthday, Harry. 

Love, Hermione. 

__

Harry stared at that word. Love. He hadn’t heard it much before in his young life. Certainly no one had ever said it to him before. Hermione had never said that in a letter before. He felt his stomach tighten and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

He raised his head up from it’s previous bent position and his eyes met Hermione’s. She quirked her eyebrow at him. “Alright, Harry?” she queried. 

Harry felt himself blush slightly, but smiled softy at her nonetheless. “Never better.”


	7. Welcome to Diagon Alley!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for reading. :) And sorry for how short this chapter is once again, I get the feeling that maybe long chapter's aren't my thing. 
> 
> Like I mentioned in the last chapter: 
> 
> Do I stick to the real Harry Potter story as much as I can and take you through Hermione and Harry's friendship through each year? Or do I stray completely from the year by year thing and go down the Love Rosie route where they go through their ages very quickly and skip a lot?
> 
> I'm still not sure so let me know your thoughts and what you would prefer to see. Thanks! xoxo

  
The couple of nights Harry spent at the Granger household gave him a taste of what a real family could be like; what a real family could _feel_  like. Mr. Granger included him in conversations, asked him how he was and what he felt like doing. Rather than what he was used to from his Uncle, which was shouting and taunting and waiting on him hand and foot.

Mrs. Granger gave him hot milk to help him sleep better before bed like he imagined his real mother would do. She patted his shoulder softly and wished him a good morning at the breakfast table, which was so surreal as Harry had been so deprived of any motherly affection from his Aunt.

He felt wanted there; appreciated. The only thing that would make him leave the Grangers is Hagrid coming to tell them he’s taking them shopping for Hogwarts. Other than that, Harry thought he could stay there forever.

__

“Harry, look!” He heard Hermione shouting excitedly from her bedroom. He ran into the room, seeing her standing on her tiptoes leaning against her pale white desk and pointing out her window. He made his way across her room, careful not to tread on her pink fluffy slippers by the bed and parked himself right beside her, his lips quirked upwards in an amused manner.

“What is it?” He asked her, stretching his neck up and peering through the curtains. Harry had grown a couple inches over the Summer and was now a good 5 or 6 inches taller than Hermione, so standing on his tiptoes wasn’t necessary.

“Do you see a white barn owl over there or am I dreaming?” Hermione asked him in a tone that suggested that she was right but she’d just like to confirm how right she was. She did this often, especially in English lessons. Harry swore she’d write a book by the time she was fourteen titled “I’m Always Right” or “How to be smart, but not as smart as me” or something to that effect. Harry would of course be first in line to buy a copy. Why? Because she was his best friend and he lov-

“Harry!” Hermione snapped, hitting him lightly on the arm. “Would you please pay attention! There is an owl out there with a note attached to it and I think it’s for us.” She shrieked, brown eyes wide. Harry rubbed his upper arm with a hurt scowl gracing his face. Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes, fiercely pointing towards the window for the second time that morning.

Harry quickly obeyed and turned his attention back to the owl. “Yes, I see the owl, Hermione.” Harry muttered in a monotone voice.

“And the note?” She asked, leaning on his shoulder with her hand to push herself higher up to give her a better view.

Harry squinted his eyes at the bird. “Maybe?” He guessed, his shoulder drooping slightly due to the weight of Hermione’s arm.

“Maybe?!” Hermione echoed, about 4 octaves higher.

Harry tutted at her “Oh for God’s sake Hermione, you know I can’t see that far! Can we just go down to the bloody bird now, we’re wasting time!” he yelled, slightly louder than he intended to. His anger wasn’t directed towards Hermione, but to the Dursley’s who refused to buy him new glasses.

Hermione didn’t flinch even in the slightest at Harry’s sudden change in tone, she bent down and swiftly, put on her good shoes and cardigan and calmly started to leave the room. “Hermione?” Harry started apprehensively, raking a nervous hand through his already messy hair. Hermione didn’t turn to face him, just carried on marching down the stairs. Her shiny black shoes taping as she went. 

He quickly ran after her, down the stairs and out the Grangers front door. And sure enough, the bird had made it’s way over to their garden and was now sitting perched on their blue mail box. Hermione beamed at the bird. “Aren’t you lovely?” she cooed in the way she does when she talks to Juliette, her Grandmothers fat cat. She reached out her hand to pet the bird’s white feathers. They felt like clouds under her finger tips, or the way she imagined clouds to feel like. Light and soft and wonderful. She giggled as it twisted it’s head and gave her a gentle nip as a gesture of appreciation.

Harry smiled at that and made his way towards the two, his feet pressing into the slightly damp grass. “I think he like’s you.” He whispered, as if talking louder would disrupt the scene. Hermione glanced over at him for a second and hummed before continuing petting the soft white creature.

Harry was worried she was actually refusing to talk to him, when she softly whispered back “Try it.” He gazed between Hermione and the bird, slightly nervous it wouldn’t take to him how it had taken to her, but once his finger tips brushed it’s feathers he broke into a wide grin. The bird leaned it’s head towards him and nipped him like it had Hermione.

“Wow.” Harry gasped. Hermione nodded her head in agreement, both silently agreeing that apart from getting their Hogwarts letters, this was the best thing that had happened yet.

Hermione untied the note from the barn owl’s claws and read loud enough for Harry to hear, but low enough so that surrounding passers by wouldn’t be able to hear them.

__

Dear Harry and Hermione,

I am writing to let you know that I will be arriving at your house tomorrow morning at 10 o’clock. Please bring a list of your needed supplies that was enclosed in your Hogwarts letter.

Hermione, let your parents know they are welcome to join us.

See you then,

Hagrid.

__

After reading Hagrid’s messy scrawl, Hermione jumped up and down excitedly flapping the note about. Harry imagined this was probably a small scale of what she was like when she found out she had been accepted into Hogwarts. The white owl flapped it’s wings slightly alarmed at Hermione’s high pitched shouts of excitement. “Relax” Harry ordered, placing both his hands on her shoulders and made her breathe in deeply.

Once they said thank you to the owl, and Hermione had controlled herself, they hurriedly ran inside to inform her parents.

__

Harry had been expecting Hagrid’s motorcycle to show up the next morning, but in it’s place was a normal London taxi. He tried to hide his disappointment as he and the Grangers filed into the car in an orderly fashion and were surprised to find Hagrid wasn’t inside. “Slight change of plan” the driver said in a formal tone. “Hagrid will be meeting you at the location instead.”

Harry eyed the man suspiciously but Hermione thanked him kindly and proceeded to buckle her seatbelt. She was dressed in a red skirt, black tights, her good shoes and a white blouse with a peter pan collar. Harry was wearing the gift Hermione had got him for his birthday. The shoes had fit him nicely, which he was delighted about as he would have been mortified at having to make Mrs. Granger change them.

__

The taxi pulled up along the side of the road, where a very large, very out of place Hagrid was standing, whistling happily to himself. When he spotted the car, he raised his huge right hand in a wave. “Well hello there.” he greeted as Harry and the Grangers all got out of the car.

“Hello, Hagrid.” Hermione sang cheerfully as she made her way towards the man. “Are we going shopping in London?” She asked, gazing around the London streets, perhaps searching for a wand shop or two.

Harry shrugged at her and began reading off some of the items on his list. “One standard sized 2 pewter cauldron, and may bring if they desire, either an owl, a cat or a toad.” He stopped reading and glanced up at Hagrid. “Could we really find all this in London?”

Hagrid smiled down at the two children, looking up at him curiously. “If you know where to go.” he replied, guiding them towards a charcoal grey door on the corner of an alleyway. Hermione glanced back at her parents excitedly. They gave her a supportive smile, but cringed nervously when she turned her back. They were still getting adjusted to this new world they were introduced to, and while they were extremely happy for Hermione, their pre conceived notions of their world were still getting in the way.

Hagrid opened the door politely for them and guided them into a very dark, old looking pub. The only source of light was flickering candles and a stream of light from a high window on the back wall.

Soft music and loud chatter filled their ears and made Harry feel slightly uneasy. He supposed it was because he was adjusting to the harsh brightness of outside into the dim surroundings of the pub. He inspected the people around him, they were all in strange dark muted attire and nearly all of them wore some sort of hat. He suddenly became aware of his jumper and how bright the green seemed in here compared to the others choice of clothing. He stood next to Hermione and eyed her bright red skirt, between the two of them they looked positively jolly.

A man with grey hair and a wrinkled but friendly face sat behind the bar and shouted when he spotted Hagrid. “Ah Hagrid, usual I presume?”

“No thanks, Tom. I’m on official Hogwarts business.” he said to the man, declining his offer. He strolled over and stood protectively and proudly beside Harry. “Just helping young Harry and Hermione here buy their school supplies.” He said, placing a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Bless my soul, it’s Harry Potter.” the bar man gasped, amazed. The hustle of the pub came to a sudden stop and everyone turned to stare at the small wide eyed boy. Harry gulped loudly and turned his attention away from their prying eyes to look at his best friend. She gave him a weak shrug, apparently just as confused as he was.

“Welcome back, Mister Potter.” A man with long greying hair and a black hat exclaimed, shaking Harry’s hand with both of his slightly sweaty ones. A woman called Doris something or other told Harry she was so happy to meet him at last. He thought perhaps maybe she had got the wrong person as the only Doris Harry knew was little Doris Smith from down the road.

He passed from person to person, acting all the same and as if they knew him for years. Hermione went to go stand with her parents who were waiting by the door, but Harry grabbed her elbow in a swift panicked movement. “Don’t leave me, Hermione.” He muttered quickly under his breath. She gave him a soft tilt of her head and squeezed the hand that was fiercely clutching her elbow as a sign that she wasn’t going anywhere.

A pale man with a purple scarf wrapped tightly around his head jerked towards them. “Harry Potter, how very p-p-pleased I am to meet you.” he stuttered, wringing his hands together. Harry raised his eyebrows at the nervous looking man and Hermione knotted hers together trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Hello, Professor.” Hagrid boomed. “Harry, Hermione, this is Professor Quirrell. He will be your Defence against the Dark Arts teacher.” he explained.

“Oh, nice to meet you.” Harry said, reaching his hand out to shake the Professors. The Professor gave a step back and pulled his hands in towards his chest. “F-fearfully, fascinating subject” He stammered. “Not that you need it, eh P-potter?” He added.

Hermione bit her lip and then flicked her curly hair behind her shoulder and straighten up her back “I’m Hermione Granger.” She said confidently. “It is such a pleasure to meet you.” She said smiling, brilliantly.

Professor Quirrell gave her a small grimace. “C-charmed.” he stuttered before he faltered away.

—

Hagrid gestured for Hermione’s parents to follow him towards the back of the pub. “Follow me now, lots to buy” he said, his loud voice carried throughout the room. They politely followed his large form out the back door of the pub, Mrs Granger keeping her husbands hand firmly in her grasp. Harry and Hermione followed close behind, whispering intently to each other.

“He hated me. I’ve never had a teacher hate me before.” Hermione whined, ignoring the gawks from the people at the bar. She was sure it wasn’t her they were looking at though.

“He didn’t hate you, he was nervous. You saw the man.” Harry replied, trying to convince her. He was personally not worried if someone hated him, he was used to that. What he wasn’t used to was people liking him and telling him they were pleased to meet him. “I’m a bit freaked out at the fact that those people in there knew who I was. Clearly they’ve mistaken me for someone else.” Harry added, scratching his head of messy hair.

Hermione shrugged as her response. “I’m not sure, Harry. I think there’s something we’re not aware of.” She pondered, bitting her bottom lip. This was Hermione’s tell tale sign that she was thinking intently of a plan. Harry hated when she did that, it normally involved books. Lots and lots of books.

Harry and Hermione exited out of the back door to the pub and came face to face with a large brick wall. “Stand back a bit there now.” Hagrid said to them all, pulling out his pink umbrella. He taped a few of the bricks in what appeared to be a specific pattern and they began to move inwards, a sharp crumbling sound filling their ears. They quickly folded together, each brick inserting into the other until they formed an opening wide enough to walk through.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley.” Hagrid beamed, proudly extending his arms outwards as if to show off his favourite work of art.

“Whoa” Harry gasped, taking in the long cobblestoned, winding street; filled with the most beautiful, intricate shop fronts. The windows were packed and stacked with various magical goods and he could already spot a few items on his list.

“Oh isn’t it wonderful, Harry?” Hermione beamed, her voice soaring above the excited chatter of the shoppers. She clutched his arm and Harry didn’t know whether it was an automatic reaction of the joy she was feeling or just to have someone or something to hold on to so she wouldn’t get swallowed up by the storm of people.

Her parents followed Hagrid, as equally as enchanted by the strange curves and bends of the buildings. Their bright colours spilling onto the the cobblestones beneath their feet, making the experience all the more adventurous as they hopped along after the enormous man, who made his own pathway through the hustling crowd.

“Keep up you two.” Hagrid boomed, turning his head back towards Harry and Hermione who were slightly dazed, staring up into the cages of a dozen owls. Each so unique and beautiful they needed their own divided attention. Hagrid chuckled at the sight of their expressions, completely high on magic and the feeling of being deeply immersed in the wonder of Diagon Alley. “You can come back later.” He promised, pulling them along by their shoulders so they weren’t swayed to return.

They followed Hagrid deeper and deeper into the alley way, passing a small shop with brooms on display. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of a particular one, a boy beside the window called it the Nimbus 2000. He didn’t know what it was for, or why he felt such a strong desire to have it, or even just to touch it. But then he glanced at the price tag and he felt his stomach drop. He didn’t have any money, he couldn’t afford it or anything on his school list for that matter and the Dursley’s certainly weren’t going to pay.

“Hagrid, I haven’t got any money.” Harry started. “How am I to pay for all of this?” He asked him, gazing up into the bearded mans face, a worried crease on his brow.

“Money? Well Harry, there’s your money.” He pointed up to a large warped, off white building. It read ‘Gringotts Bank’ in capital letters and towered over all of Diagon Alley, holding a somewhat strong and important role, Harry suspected as it reeked of wealth and power; whereas the other buildings were playful and inviting. Harry wanted to turn away but Hagrid assured him that apart from Hogwarts, there was no safer place.

Hagrid told Hermione and her parents that they could go and tick off a few of the items on her list while he took Harry to the bank and they would meet outside the building once they were finished.

Hermione was reluctant to let Harry go but slowly pulled her hand away from the place she had securely tucked it at Harry’s elbow. “I’ll see you in a bit.” Harry said giving her a forced smile. He could tell she didn’t like him going in there alone. But he was going in with Hagrid, whom he had only known a short while but could already tell was trustworthy. He gave a short wave of his hand to Hermione’s parents and lumbered slowly towards the intimidating double doors.

Hermione watched him intently until she could no longer see the messy back of his head. She felt silly for being so protective but it had always been in her nature to look out for Harry as his family didn’t.

“Come along then, Hermione. There’s a whole list of books here and they won’t buy themselves.” Her mother sang, smiling knowingly at her daughter. Hermione sighed deeply and smiled back, books always made her feel better. She skipped along the pathway beside her parents, taking in the smells and sights and feel of the magical place around her, after all this was her journey too.


End file.
